milliways_bar | (no subject)

(no subject)

There's a Peter in the Bar! He snags some ~~hot chocolate~~ tea and heds for a small table.

(OOC: No AIM, and slowtime could happen at any time. But crack is needed by me, so yes, the insanity is happening)

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"Humans!"

She informs him before dropping into his lap after he settles down and stealing a sip of his tea.

The smell and tails are right, so its gotta be Ako.

Peter's head turns,and he smiles as he sees Ako.

"What about them?"

She offers his cup back, and kisses him on the cheek,

"Some of them are so nice...and some of them you just want to grab by the back of the neck and shake. How have you been, cutie?"

He sips his tea pointedly.

"Much better now, thanks. You?"

She had Tea with Merriman, so it was just the formula of the thing. If one, small, sip really bothers him she'll buy a new cup,

"It has been stressful, but what in life has not of recent?"

Peter shrugs.

"I dunno, I've been pretty relaxed. How's your lost pup?"

"Joined by another."

She says with a faint sigh, the kind that implies that someone's head hurts and she doesn't want to admit it,

"Mordred, you met him once, lost a very close friend. He has not been himself."

Or, rather, he's been very himself. In the "batshit insane with grief" phaze that people go through.

"I wish there were, oh, a dozen of me."

Before he can stop it, a wicked grin spreads over Peter's face.

"I wouldn't mind that either."

And it drops.

"Sorry, that was crude of me. If you ever want help or anything... I mean, I'd do my best... not that that's anything like what you can do..."

Peter hasn't been embarassed in a while, but he's making up for it now.

She nuzzles his face with a faint snicker for the joke. Ako can always appreciate a joke,

"Thank you, cutie. You can, actually. If you see the lost one, he wears an old Navy uniform from the British Empire, try to get him to drink some broth or something. There isn't really much I can do for him either."

Peter gives her a slightly confused look.

"Which lost pup are we discussing now? Mordred or the new one?"

He didn't think that Mordred wore a Navy uniform from the whatever, but then again, he'd only talked to the kid like, three times.

"The new one."

She says,

"Wellard, that's his name. Mordred...I would not suggest trying to handle right now. He's not doing well."

Peter grimaces gently, and gives her a hug.

"I'll keep an eye out for him. Shall I mention you if and when I see him?"

"He thinks I'm just a pet fox, not a Fox."

She says with a shake of her head as she leans into the hug,

"He's been resisting human help, so...I've been staying with him as a fox, at least until Mordred started to need me."

And since then she's been spending all night, 6 of 7, padding between the two rooms so that she can soothe what nightmares it is possible to.

Peter grins.

"Hey, I can actually help with that one. Though I dunno how comforting a big bad wolf is... some people don't like us. Point me in the right direction, though, and I'll give it my best shot."

He looks at her sincerely, really hoping that he can do something to help.

She responds with a highly enthusiastic kiss.

"Thank you! So very, very much. I've been going sane with stress."

It makes sense. Really it does. She offers him Wellard's room number and another kiss.

Peter's eyebrows shoot up, and his face gets all mock-astonished.

"Well, we can't have that, can we? The only reason we love you is for your insanity. Otherwise, you'd be just like the rest of us boring mortals."

He tucks the number in the pocket of his shorts, and gives her a quick peck on the nose.

((SLowtime is fine, unless you wanna wrap it. Love ya!))

"For that,"

She informs him while ordering dinner,

"You may spend the time while I eat something not raw and bleeding deciding exactly how you would like me to say thank you."

And doesn't that just have a gazillion possibilities when dealing with a true shape-shifter?

A sly grin spreads over Peter's face, his eyes dancing with the possibilities.

"Might we be able to involve whipped cream?"

"Yes, yes we might."

Is the cheerful response.

Peter licks his lips, anticipatory.

"Oh, goody."

His eyes stay on her, watching every movement as she eats. His mind is certainly not busy translating the steak into something else... surely not.

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